Constants
by SurelyForth
Summary: A very brief one-shot about the friendship between Ron Mahariel and Tamlen.


A nothing little one-shot that fleshes out the relationship my M!Mahariel had with Tamlen, mostly as an RP exercise. Takes place during the Dalish Elf origin and is Rated H for Hopelessly Lacking Dalish Lore.

The usual disclaimer: BioWare owns Dragon Age:Origins, Tamlen, Dalish lore, my soul, and everything I do.

Dedicated to Sandtigress.

* * *

Ron was _not_ in the mood to argue, but Tamlen _definitely_ was, which meant arguing was going to happen. This was one aspect of their friendship that had remained a constant since they were very young, when they would pass the days crawling through underbrush and scaling trees to spy on their clanmates. Tamlen would always want to get too close, or go places both knew they didn't belong, and Ron would have to patiently explain things like Trust and Consequences. Tamlen yielded nearly every time, unable to disarm his friend's cool logic, but that didn't mean he couldn't go on about how much he _disagreed_.

Some things would never change, only now it was _shemlens_ they fought over, a _real_ threat and not just a chance encounter with an irritated elder.

"Why would you let them go? Why do you _always_ let them go?" Tamlen was holding one of his arrows, smoothing back the iridescent fletching with his rough fingers. This meant he was genuinely agitated and _that_ meant the conversation could turn ugly. Ron sighed inwardly, already tired of being interrogated for his beliefs.

"They didn't _do_ anything," Ron looked up at the leafy green canopy overhead, the sky hazy beyond. It looked like it might rain soon, which would be a pleasant distraction.

"They didn't do anything yet, but they _will_!" Tamlen snapped the shaft of the arrow hard against Ron's bare forearm in the hopes of eliciting a response. His friend's face remained impassive, but his hands were quick as he snatched the arrow away and tossed it aside. He didn't even brush at the rising welt that was showing itself red on his tan skin.

"You know, that's what they say about _us_, how they justify killing _us_ without cause. Most humans would rather not kill _anyone_, even an elf. But they don't really know us, don't see us with our clans and struggling to survive. They just hear _rumors_ and most of those make us out to be savages from which they need to protect themselves. If you want to make humans less likely to attack, you should show mercy. Give them positive stories to take back to their villages," and this was almost more than Ron usually said in a day, but he felt passionately about this topic, and it kept his mind off his stinging arm. "If only one of those shems talks about how we could have shot him full of arrows and didn't, then a few more might get it into their heads that we can be rational and _that_ can only be a good thing, right?"

"Why do you talk about them as if they care whether we live or die?"

"Because _I_ care if _they_ live or die. It stands to reason some of them feel the same way about us. I'd hate to see one at the end of my daggers, if it could be avoided," and Ron was done talking, but Tamlen _wasn't_.

"So what happens if one of those shems comes back later and attacks our clan? How would you feel about that?"

Ron's brow pulled down in contemplation, "Responsible, to a point. But I cannot kill everyone who is a threat to us, _or_ to themselves. If I could…_you_ might not be here."

His lips quirked into a smile at the last part and Tamlen felt his irritation subside. _This_ was also a hallmark of their relationship. Tamlen would get worked up about something and Ron would quietly work him back down without ever giving an inch on his position.

"How do you _do_ that?" Tamlen regarded his childhood friend closely. There was a glint of amusement in Ron's grey eyes, the tiniest acknowledgement that he took some pride in his ability to defuse a temper like Tamlen's. "Why don't you _ever_ get angry?"

"Because anger makes things harder," Ron shrugged and stole another look at the sky, pale steel overhead. "You can't think when you're angry, you can't react as quickly, or move as carefully."

"And you can't make everyone think you're so very great, right?" this was accompanied by a mocking eye-roll as Ron merely twitched his shoulders in response. There was no need for Ron to give in to a petty squabble, especially so soon after he'd gotten himself out of a _not_ so petty squabble. "Eh, let's forget it. I should just be happy that you're allowing me this bit of fun. It's been awhile since we've had any kind of adventure. I was starting to think you were going to go straight from _da'len_ to _hahren_, and that would be a shame."

Ron gave his friend a quick sidelong glance and offered another crooked grin, "Just don't make me regret this like I did last time. If I have to lose my armor for any reason, I'm taking yours and _you_ can sneak back into camp naked. Once is enough for me."

And Tamlen laughed at this until tears streamed down his cheeks. He glanced over at Ron to see his expression deliberately stern, even as his eyes gleamed with the memory of not-distant childhood mischief.

Above them the sky grew a bit darker, clouds gathering tight over the heads of two old friends, one half-hoping for trouble, and the other readied to protect them both when it came.

This, too, was just as it had always been.


End file.
